Chapter Text
In the White House, Christmas gets pretty boring. Usually he gets a new shirt, socks, or occasionally a mug. It's been like this for years, but this year Donald decided to give writing a letter to Santa a shot. What could it hurt, right? He sat down, mulling it over for a few hours before finally putting the pen to paper:
'Dear Santa,
I know I might not be the normal age you deliver to, but I've been pretty good this year. I was hoping for just one thing: Sans Undertale.
Signed, Donald'
He mailed off the letter in November and quickly forgot about it as he went back to his usual, boring life. He had barely been paying attention to the fact that Christmas was there until late in the morning when he went downstairs. He shuffled down, yawning as he headed to the kitchen. When he got in and put the kettle on the stove, he heard a faint snoring from the living room.
His brow creased in confusion, and he shuffled into the living room. As he neared the couch, the quiet snoring got louder until he saw who the source was. He spotted a figure in a bright blue jacket, black shorts, and pink slippers. Their legs were odd to say the least. They were thick but solid white. He wasn't sure why, but he reached out to touch it. They were smooth and almost warm, but hard as bone. He jumped back as the person spoke, their voice deep and heavy with sleep.
"hey, weren't you ever taught to not touch someone when they're sleeping, kid?"
"I-I just wanted to see what it was, I wasn't going to..." The figure grunted before sitting up and yawning. They stretch before sitting up and facing the president. Donald flinched harshly when he was met with two pits for eyes and a boney smile.
"sorry, bud. didn't mean to scare ya."
"W-w-w-what are you doing here?" he asked.
"i live here."
"What?!"
"i live here." the figure repeated.
Donald was confused. "In my house?"
The skeleton slowly got to his feet. Donald expected him to be taller when he stood, but he only came up to his elbows.
"well, to be fair, you didn't invite me. and i didn't exactly knock," he said.
"Y-you have no business bb-b-b-b-b-b-b-being here!" he exclaimed stepping back, trying to put distance between them. He was sure he knew who was standing in front of him, but he couldn't believe it was really him. Undertale was his favorite game, Sans being his favorite character. He recalled his throwaway letter to Santa and realized what had happened.
"D-did you...are you............... ... ..?" he trailed off expectantly.
The skeleton nodded slowly, eyes closed.
"yep. it's me. sans undertale."
So...his wish really had come true. "Oh my god it's really you??!" Sans nodded again.
"yep. i guess i'm your present this year."
Donald looked away and blushed heavily. Standing in front of him was his dream man. He knew he was married to Melania, but he had always hoped that an opportunity like this would come along.
Sans continued: "the big man himself brought me to you. but, uh, i don't think you were specific enough in your letter..."
"Wh-what do you mean??"
"well..."
He trailed off, motioning towards the corner of Donald's living room, towards the base of his Christmas tree.
They both turned their attention to the large, red bag hidden in the shadows of the room. It was rustling and wriggling around. Sans put his arm in front of Donald to shield him. A familiar, boney hand started to emerge from the cloth. Then another. Then another. And another. And more until they were uncountable. Suddenly, many nearly identical skeletons came bursting from the bag. Donald could recognize everyone from his many Wattpad stories detailing his Undertale AUs: Underswap, Horrortale, Fellswap, Undertail. While he was lost in thought, every alternate Sans locked eyes with him.
The original Sans got in front of Donald to protect his newfound lover as Donald looked on, not knowing how he could choose from all the options. As they began reaching towards him, San's eye began to glow a bright blue as he readied to guard Donald's love with his life.
"don't worry, babe. if they mess with you,"
Sans looked back at him, eye fully ablaze (it looked really cool and hot)
"...they're gonna have a bad time."